


Keeping my promises

by YannaChan



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bilbo is stuck in a time travel circle, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, The 5 Stages of Grief, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YannaChan/pseuds/YannaChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time Thorin Oakenshield died, Bilbo was sure that he would never be the same again.</p><p>The second was no better.</p><p>The third only made everything worse.</p><p>(Or: "The one where Bilbo relives the quest several times.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> I know that this is slightly similar to the other fic I just started, but I had to get all the multiplying plotbunnies out of my head to focus on the other one!

It's morning and Bilbo wakes up in his room in Bag-End. Normally this would be no reason to worry, except that he went to bed back in one of the dusty rooms in Erebor.

So what was he doing here now?

He walks through his home, but no one else is there. The wound on his head is also gone. Bilbo slumps into his reading chair.

What's happening?

Either his head injury has been more serious than he thought, he had fallen into unconsciousness and he had somehow been transported back home, which was very unlikely since there was no one here to keep an eye on him should his state worsen.

Or...

Or he had dreamed the entire adventure. It wouldn't be the first time his mind cooked something up in memory of his wanderlust back when Bilbo was younger. 

But it had all felt so real and now it's just his imagination? All those friends and places, those plans and hardships? All made up in old Mad Baggins head?

He slumped further down into the plush cushions, a shaky breath leaving him.

 

 

By the time Gandalf shows up at his front gate, Bilbo has convinced himself that he has gone mad.

The talk is the same they had the day when the wizard had horded a company of dwarfs into his smial. The hobbit tries to stay calm and reply the exact way, he did back then. When he stomps inside to promptly lean against his front door, he can hear Gandalf scratch the fresh green paint.

So he does the only logical thing he can imagine. He goes to the markets and buys enough food to feed thirteen dwarf and a wizard. After consideration he also purchases a bit of Old Toby and a few barrels of good wine to ease the way with the rough bunch.

When Dwalin is the first to arrive that evening, the hobbit doesn't even flinch. No, he invites him inside and gets him settled at the plentiful filled table after taking his coat and weapons. 

The hobbit welcomes every single one of them and feeds them well. He shares his pipe weed and strong wine, lightens the fire when the night settles.

Bilbo Baggins listens to their plan and shudders at the mention of Smaug, but overall he takes it better then what he remembers. Doesn't even faint.

The contract sits on the kitchen table when he goes to bed that evening. He wakes up early, prepares breakfast and packs a few leftovers for the road. They eat heartily even with the feast the day before.

The sun is barely up when he sends them on their way.

Yavanna warned him of this quest. This company has a better chance of surviving without him there.

 

 

A few days pass in peace. Bilbo works in his garden, chats with the neighbors and celebrates one of his more distance cousins coming-of-age party. A merry affair that.

That evening he goes to bed with flowers in his hair and a smile on his face.

He wakes up without them. Instead there's a vivid image of a white warg biting right through Thorin Oakenshield's body stuck in his head.

Gandalf the Grey arrives at his front gate around noon.


	2. Anger

Bilbo looks warily at the dwarfs once more gathered around his food-ridden table. Some look back at him with suspicion, curiosity and even disinterest, but not even one of them seems to recognize him.

Is he the only one reliving this then? The only one out of the fourteen beings that is stuck in this loop of failure? 

_It's not fair!_ He tells himself when he stomps out the front door after the throwing of plates begins. _I didn't do anything to deserve this!_

The night is clear. No rain like Balin had expected and the smoke rings rise easily into the darkness until the light from his window no longer illuminates them. Bilbo tries hard to get his feelings and thoughts into order then. This anger burning in him won't get him anywhere.

_Think Bilbo. Why is this happening?_

He paces along dewy grass for a long while before he stops dead in his tracks.

_You damn idiot._

The first time he had followed Thorin there had been one quiet moment in Laketown. Their stomaches were well-filled with wine and food when the dwarf had told Bilbo of his doubts- the fear that they might not suceed after all. It had only been the two of them, who had stolen away from the loud hall to have a few secret moments of peace.

The hobbit just couldn't deal with such a soft and vulnerable look on such a handsome face, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Don't you worry! I vow that I won't stop fighting until I see this quest through to the end- that means a dead dragon and a crowned King under the Mountain!”

There was a moment of silence, then laughter.

“Lucky that you are no dwarf, Master Burglar.” Thorin had said with an amused look on his face. “Or the Mahal might just hold you to that.” He had closed in on Bilbo then. "But I guess you would also gain a high reward for your effort. Afterall, if I become King under Mountain, I'll make you my consort." Their breaths mingled. "Would you like that, Master Baggins?"

"Very." He had breathed back without thinking. They had kissed for the first time on that balcony overlooking laketown, Erebor in plain view.

Apparently self-proclaimed kin of a dwarf was enough for this particular deity to hold him to his promise.

_Damn idiot indeed._


	3. Bargaining

Bilbo walks out of Bag-End that morning and doesn't look back. A few small glances at his home wouldn't make the journey any easier. 

The night before he had agreed to the contract and got his own matters in order. He had written a will that he had delivered to the Thain in the morning. 

Lobelia Sackville-Baggins will not get any of his silver spoons, no matter what his own future holds. This much pride he has left in himself. 

Their journey is still hard, since the hobbit doesn't want to alter anything beyond repair. He tries to be normal around the dwarfs- acts like he's unsure and shy and asks them questions he already knows the answers to. Thorin doesn't talk to him, but that's to be expected.

Bilbo talks to Gandalf in Rivendell, since the wizard grows suspicious of him. There's shock and then acceptance. 

“Dear Bilbo, that's a heavy burden you carry.” The hand on his shoulder is strong, but reassuring. “I'm sorry to say that I can't help you with this. You will have to full-fill your promise in order to be released.”

And he does.

 

 

Bilbo tries to ease their way the best way he can. 

They witness the battle between the stone giants and fall into the Goblin caves, but Bilbo never faces down Gollum. Instead he simply takes the Ring, puts it on and leaves. He's already there when the dwarfs stumble out of the darkness. Their looks vary from surprised to impressed.

Azog catches up to them in the forest near the cliff once again. Bilbo begs and pleads Thorin to not react to the taunting, to stay safe and put just a little longer, but the king charges without rhyme or reason. His burglar is by his side before the white warg can even attack. They stand back to back with their swords raised, their faces grim. 

They are significantly less hurt than before, but there is a long deep scratch on Bilbo's shoulder that almost reaches his back where a warg claw caught. Oin tries his best to ease the pain.

When they leave Beorn, there is extra food hidden away in the bottom of his pack. It's not the first thing he steals and it's by far not the worst. The skin-changer would understand if he knew the circumstances, he's sure.

They cross the cursed river in Mirkwood without trouble, since the hobbit scares the incoming deer away with loud shouts that he disguises as screams of fright. He tells the Company that he saw a giant spider crawling through the thicket and since he also had a good eye-sight when it came to spotting the boats, no one questions him. They are prepared when the arachnids attack and defeat them with small complications.

The elven patrols still manage to catch the dwarfs. Bilbo hates to wear the ring for a long period of time, but there's not a lot he can do otherwise. 

It still whispers ugly things to him in the darkness. Promises and suggestions.

Mirkwood is less stressing this time around, but just as claustrophobic. The patrol patterns never changed and the starlight celebration is only few days away, so Bilbo sets off to inform every dwarf of his escape plan. They call him crazy, but none of them have better ideas so they agree in the end. 

He delivers messages between the different family members until he tires himself out and his feet protest. The hobbit drags himself down to the deepest part of the dungeon.

Thorin Oakenshield looks majestic even captured in a wet cell. 

“Who's there?” Those icy-blue eyes stare out between the strong iron bars.

“It's just me.” He has barely enough strength left to pull the cursed ring from his finger. His pocket feels heavy with it.

“Master Burglar, you've returned.” He sounds relieved and it lifts a little of the weight off of his chest.

“Would you terribly mind if I invited myself in? I haven't slept in a few days and my shoulder is terribly upset with me.” Thorin gestures with his hand and Bilbo fiddles for a small moment with the lock pick Nori gave him before the door creaks open.

Before he can however complain about the faulty hinges, he's wrapped up in strong arms. Pressed up against the strong chest he feels like he finally returned home after a long time.

 

 

They reach Laketown when comprehension finally dawns on Bilbo. In order to save Thorin's life he has to break their bond, to end this courtship.

If it can save his king, Bilbo can't deny this choice, even he rips himself apart in that very moment.

He allows himself one more night with his love before they leave for Erebor.

 

 

Smaug is defeated, his coat burned and the Arkenstone a heavy weight in his pocket. The Arkenstone has to be stolen in order for Thorin to see reason, because there's nothing the hobbit can do to stop the gold sickness from infecting the whole lot of them otherwise and they have to have Mirkwood and Laketown as their allies to survive the oncoming battle. 

Bilbo steals away in the night and offers the King's Stone to Bard. All parties agree on the terms of trade and he goes back to the mountain.

When morning comes and armed forces near the front gates, Bilbo is no where to be found. 

“How did you-” The king braces himself against the stone wall to glare down at them as if to see some sort of illusion. He spins around to face the Company. “Who of you betrayed me?!” 

No one speaks. Thick silence settles over them with a stifling weight.

“Where is the burglar?” Comprehension finally seems to dawn on him and Bilbo tries very hard to hold in his breath and tears. “The thief, the rat that invaded my kingdom?! Find him so I can throw him into the deepest depth of the mountain!”

The Ring has never been quiet this comforting before.

 

 

“I know you are there!” Thorin screams down the empty hall, his voice echoing through the mountain.

“My king, the burglar is long gone.” Dwalin sounds tired. Ever since Bilbo left, he'd been the one to take care of Thorin, trying to somehow make him see sense again.

There's a short moment of relief. If anyone noticed the food that was missing from their supplies, they didn't mention it then.

“It can't be!” The dark hair whips around as he turns his head from side to side, trying to spy the burglar somewhere in the shadows. “Don't you hear the footsteps, too? The whisper in the dark? The breathing down my back?!” 

“You need rest, my king.” He really does. The skin on his cheek is taunt, the bags under his eyes are dark and his lips cracked. 

It's not the first time Bilbo questions his decision.

 

 

Bilbo follows the dwarf king for several more days, always hidden. When it's time for the battle to begin, he's right behind his friends- exhausted but ready.

He follows Thorin through the blood and screams. Through arrows and clashing swords.

The hobbit spots the Orc leader before Thorin does. The abomination of an arm is already poised to pierce through Thorin's chest and there's really not much Bilbo can do now. 

Still he runs with haste and makes it just in time. 

Azog's arm pierces through thin air. Orc and dwarf look startled for a short moment, before Thorin gives an enraged scream and attacks.

Bilbo is cast to the ground with the jagged wound in his side heavily bleeding. His nerve endings are on fire and his vision blurry. He has to get up, he tells himself.

Who will save Thorin if he doesn't?

This once, the king needs no saving. One strong blow to the Orc's leg brings him to his knees while the second strike disconnects his head from his shoulders easily.

He can't stop the hurt sound that punches out of him, when Thorin lifts him from the ground and begins carrying back to Erebor's gates, Fili and Kili flanking his sides to keep them safe. They collapse just after stepping inside.

“Bilbo, I thought you gone.” The fur beneath his back is soft and the grasp around his hand firm.

“I never left... I was always by your side.” There's no need to lie about this now. Even if he'll be hated forever, this is something that he needs to get off of his burning chest. “Someone had to take care of you, so you don't wind up dead...”

“Burglar... I'm sorry. I was not myself.” Kili is crying, Bilbo can hear shaky breaths and angry sounding cursing.

“I know. You're forgiven.” His small hand comes up to cup the bearded face above him, one finger tracing along the sharp edge. “I love you.”

There's that vulnerable look again that made him vow on his own life in the first place. The promise that he finally managed to keep. “Is there nothing I can do?” Those dark eyebrows frown and blue eyes cloud over.

“Kiss me?” 

“That's not...”

“Just kiss me please. Just this one time.” Bilbo can feel the life leaving him. It's harder to breath, to keep his eyes open. Every muscle is slowly going numb. There's no time to waste.

The touch on his mouth is light, the fine hair from Thorin's beard gently scratching against his chin and cheek. It reminds him of a former life and he can't help but smile. Their foreheads are touching as the king ends their kiss. “I wish there was more time.”

“My time is borrowed already... Stolen even.” The laugh sounds ugly and ends in a nasty coughing fit. “Like the burglar I am.”

Please, let this be enough. Bilbo's last breath is burning it's way out of his lungs like acid. The strong hand around his own feels like it's crushing his bones. Thorin is still talking, but he can't make out any words.

It's okay.

 

 

Bilbo wakes up screaming.


End file.
